


Belligerent? No, I'm Beauregard

by Marvels



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Beau is always a mess, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, Molly is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvels/pseuds/Marvels
Summary: Yasha's the designated driver, and she gets to spend some time watching her friends. Beau is absolutely crushing the shots that Molly keeps sending her way. Surely, this will not end poorly. Yasha wouldn't really mind either way.orModern AU: Designated driver has to get their super-drunk friend home.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 12
Kudos: 184





	Belligerent? No, I'm Beauregard

It was 11 PM on a Friday night, and Yasha was drinking Coke Zero out of a highball glass. 

She wasn’t opposed to being designated driver. They all took turns at it. Well, most of them did. But as she watched Molly lean into Caleb’s chest and run his fingers over Caleb’s shoulder, she wondered privately, if tomorrow morning might be the right time to confront him about cheating at their DD card pulling. He’d been sneaky about it before, but tonight he hadn’t even bothered to use a card of the same deck. Yeah. Tomorrow morning. Maybe, say, 8 AM?

Shaking her head, she turned in her stool at the bar to look over to where a few other members of their group were congregated, totally monopolizing both the pool table and the dartboard. Veth was hustling Caduceus at pool, despite the fact that all of them knew damn well how good Veth was at it. Jester was giving Caduceus unsolicited advice, chirping above the sound of the music, and Cad was just bobbing his head, pink hair drooping to cover his eyes as he simply vibed. 

Beau and Fjord were at the dartboard, and Yasha couldn’t help but wince when she saw Beau turn around, back to the dart board, and hurl a dart over her shoulder. Miraculously, it hit the corkboard, but didn’t land anywhere on the target. Fjord was doubling over with laughter, and Beau, somewhat dizzily, seemed to be arguing her case for why her trickshot was worthy of points.

Yasha felt a smile start to creep across her face before turning to hide it in her drink. Beauregard.

They’d met less than a year ago through Molly and Caleb, and fully coalesced as a friend group maybe two or three months after that, but Beau was… well, she had certainly piqued Yasha’s interest. Every time they spoke, Yasha felt more and more attracted to her, but at the same time, felt like she knew less and less about her. Only two months ago had she realized that Beau was getting her Master’s degree part time at the University of Zadash, and not just working at the library there. A few weeks later, it came to her attention that Beau didn’t just practice martial arts, but occasionally participated in paid cage fights?

Part of Beau’s enigmatic appeal was probably due to the fact that Yasha was called away on business more often than the rest of the group. She’d missed birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries in their first year of friendship. To be fair, their group was probably just as foggy on the details of her life as she was about theirs. Not that knowing that made her feel any better. Maybe that was part of why she was cool being the designated driver. It ingratiated her into the group in a helpful way. Maybe it would help them like her more.

“You know, just ‘cause you’re off the ale doesn’t mean you need to be sitting here sulking,” A slightly sweaty, lavender arm was slung around her shoulder, and Yasha felt a smile creep back onto her face, despite herself.

“I’m people-watching, Molly,” Yasha said, taking a dainty sip of her Coke through the clear plastic straw. Molly scoffed openly.

“Darling, that’s fine with me, but do you really want to be people-watching when you could be spending time with your friends?” Molly drawled, nodding his head conspicuously over towards where the rest of their party was playing bar games. Yasha knew well enough that his nod was targeted at one of their group more than the others.

“She’s having fun, I’m not gonna bug her with conversation,” Yasha said, nervously scratching at the back of her neck as she felt a blush creep up into her cheeks. 

“Have you considered joining in on her fun sober? Jester does it all the time,” Molly pointed out. It was true. Jester was rarely under the influence of anything on their nights out. Shame that she also didn’t have a driver’s license. Could have killed two birds with one stone.

“I’m not Jester,” Yasha countered, taking a larger slug of her Coke. Molly sighed and regarded her with slightly bleary eyes.

“No, I suppose you’re not,” he said. “But you are you, and that means you have me.” His eyes flashed then, and Yasha knew him well enough to bring her hands up to cover her face.

“Molly…”

“Shots! Come on, Fjord, Beau! Veth, I know you’ll take a fuckin’ shot, come on look alive!” Molly hollered over to the group. Yasha turned to look at them, those willing to partake holding up an arm. Her eyes locked onto Beau’s, and she watched Beau smile mischievously before holding up two fingers on her raised hand. Veth squeaked indignantly at that and held up two as well.

“That’s the spirit!” Molly said, grinning viciously. He turned to the bartender to order the round of shots to the pool table before grabbing Yasha by the elbow. Yasha could have resisted if she wanted, but instead allowed him to drag him over to the group, who met her with a cheer despite her rolling her eyes.

She narrowed her eyes at Molly when he deposited her at Beau’s side before moving over to stand by Caleb, who had planted himself on Beau’s other side. They’d started out as coworkers at the library, but from what Yasha could gather, their friendship had grown beyond the scope of just coworkers, or even just as friends who ran in the same circles. She noted, with a small private smile, the way that Caleb nudged Beau towards Yasha before turning away to grin up at Mollymauk. The bastards.

The bartender, Dagen, gave the group a look of tired irritation as he brought the shots over on trays, balancing them one handed as he navigated his chair with the other hand.

“If I see a drop of whiskey hit this pool table, you’ll be banned from this side of the bar for a month,” Dagen grumbled at them, focusing his ire towards Molly and Beau, who both reacted with mock horror and indignation.

“Of course!” Molly said, holding a hand to his chest in offense. Dagen gave him a critical look before wheeling around and heading back behind the bar. Beau reached eagerly in grabbing a shotglass in each hand before turning and looking up at Yasha with a blinding smile.

“Doing alright there?” Yasha asked. She was uncomfortable with speaking up above the music, but based on the way Beau laughed, her words had been heard.

“Never better! I’ve told Veth I’m catching up to her, my tolerance is fuckin’ excellent,” Beau said. Yasha hid a smile, but nodded. Veth could down a dozen shots in the span of an hour and come away with a slight buzz. Beau was already glassy eyed. But Yasha admired her determination.

“To Friday nights!” Molly said grandly, holding up one of his two shots. It seemed like doubles had been ordered for more than just Beau and Veth then. Yasha watched as the rest of the group, save Jester, held up their shot glasses and swallowed. Everyone but Molly and Veth grimaced and made faces as the shot went down, but before anyone could even beg Yasha for a sip of her coke as a chaser, Molly was holding up his second shot glass.

“To our lovely and talented designated driver for the night, Yasha!” Molly said grandly. “May she quit her fucking job and stay with us always!” 

“To Yasha!” Beau echoed enthusiastically. Yasha felt herself blush again as she met Beau’s frankly adoring gaze. Beau kept eye contact with Yasha as she threw back the second shot, trying her best to keep a straight face despite the dribble of whiskey that had spilled down her chin. Beau wiped it away with the heel of her hand before looking back up at Yasha, eyes bright and pupils wide. She looked like she was about to say something when Molly grabbed her arm.

“Caduceus, Caleb, and Fjord don’t want their seconds-- join me and Veth and help us get rid of them?” Yasha shot Molly a warning look. He might have been tipsy, but he knew what he was doing, and at this point, Yasha stepped in, putting a hand on Beau’s shoulder.

“Beau, I think you’ve had enough-” she started. Beau looked up at Yasha as if offended.

“I’m  _ keeping up _ , Yasha, don’t you think I can keep up?” 

“That’s not it at all,” Yasha said calmly. Beau shrugged out from under her hand, slippery and quick, even when drunk, giving it a little slap on her way towards Molly.

“I want to drink, tonight, Yash, leave me alone,” Beau said, a moment of raw and honest sadness seeming to cross her face before she turned back to Molly and Veth.

“Someone’s belligerent tonight!” Molly said cheerfully, handing her the third shot. Beau took it, smiling crookedly.

“Belligerent? No, I’m Beauregard,” she said simply, throwing the shot back without waiting for another toast. Molly’s smile faltered a little as Beau’s form bent a little, wilting against the pool table as she seemed to swallow through the war of whether or not the shot would stay down. She won in the end, smiling blearily up at Molly before turning away from him and Veth and returning to stand by Yasha.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Beau said. “I just… I dunno.” Yasha recognized it as the apology attempt that it was, and nodded.

“Want some water?” Yasha offered. Beau stared blankly for a moment, hiccuping once before nodding.

“I’m getting some, I’ll grab one for her!” Jester said cheerfully across the table. “Another Coke, Yasha?”

“I’ll have water too, Jes,” Yasha countered. Jester nodded, jewelry tinkling on her wrists and horns, before skipping back towards the bar with the tray of empty shot glasses held precariously in one hand. 

Yasha turned back to Beau who was now standing with her backside leaning into the pool table, and that familiar, absent look of a Friday night bar patron wondering if they might have had one too many.

“You feeling okay?” Yasha asked, putting her hand back, oh so gently, onto Beau’s shoulder. This time she didn’t shrug it away. Beau looked up at her with a blatantly fake smile on her face.

“I’m like…  _ fine _ , Yasha. I might be immune to alcohol, even? Like, I’ve had…” she paused to mentally tally her drinks for the night on her fingers before shaking her head and waving her hands, as if to erase the tabulations she’d been doing. “I’m great. I might be a god. I’m…”

Beau’s self-evaluation was cut short as she tried to stand up straight, moving away from the support of the pool table and tilted precariously to the side, only spared the indignity of hitting the floor by Yasha’s quick instincts. 

“Oh shit, Beau?” Fjord was next to them both then, not quite sober, but certainly a level of inebriated that was lesser than that of Beau or Molly. Yasha was holding Beau up awkwardly as she seemed to blearily take in what had happened, very slowly. 

“I’ve got her, it’s cool, it’s cool, Jester’s getting water,” Yasha said quickly, tightening her grip around Beau.

“Oh no!” Jester’s voice was high and pinched and Yasha swore she saw Beau wince at it.

“I’m fine, Jessie,” Beau said. Yasha noted how Beau had been able to come back to herself, if only to comfort Jester, reassure her. “Probably just had too much too fast.” 

“Then drink some water, Beau,” Jester said, holding some out to her. Beau did as she was ordered, and patted Yasha on the side as she seemed to find some footing, leaning back on the pool table again. Yasha kept an arm around her waist though, glaring when she caught Molly grinning at her.

“Do you need to go home?” Fjord asked Beau directly, lowering himself down to eye level so she would have to look at him. It might have seemed condescending, Yasha thought, had she not known the strength of Beau’s relationship with Fjord, the way she looked up to him like a big brother, how she sought his validation. Beau’s expression twisted with embarrassment before something like a “yes” squeaked out.

“I can take her,” Yasha said quickly. “But I don’t want to leave you all here without a DD.”

“I mean, you and Molly and Beau are the ones who live the furthest away,” Jester said slowly. “Me and Fjord and Caduceus are only like a 15 minute walk from here. Caleb and Veth-”

“I can have Yeza come get us,” Veth said, waving away the question. She looked over at Caleb and Molly. “And I assume Molly’s coming with us?” Caleb flushed pink, but nodded.

“Take her home before she spews on the pool table,” Molly said flippantly, waving at Yasha with a wink. “Don’t want to be banned from here for the rest of time.”

“I’m drunk, not a college freshman, Molly,” Beau growled.

“And I’ve seen you puke out of the back of Veth’s minivan,” Molly countered simply. “So get gone. Yasha- see you tomorrow.” Yasha rolled her eyes at him before waving a quick goodbye to the rest of the group. 

Beau wobbled as she walked, but Yasha allowed her the dignity of walking herself out. The cool night air was a relief on Yasha’s skin, and judging by the way Beau sighed and sagged a little heavier on Yasha’s side, she was feeling the same way. The gravel parking lot was a mess, with Beau half-tripping every step, despite her wearing high tops instead of some sort of perilous heel. After her third near-face-plant, Yasha swung her up into a bridal carry in her arms, and covered the rest of the distance to the car quickly.

The old Jeep model was second-hand and an absolute pain on Yasha’s wallet with all of its maintenance issues, but having a shitty car was more of a benefit when you were carting around someone who might puke all over it. Still, Yasha found a wadded up plastic bag under one of the seats and forcefully placed it in Beau’s hands before getting in the driver’s seat.

The second the ignition had fired up, Yasha rolled down her window and the window on Beau’s side.

“Let me know if you’re going to throw up or if you want the windows rolled back up or something,” Yasha said as she put the car in reverse. Beau was silent for a minute, but a quick glance told Yasha that Beau was watching her intently.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Beau asked finally. Yasha blinked for a moment, trying to understand the question before glancing back over to Beau. To her credit, she looked a little less like she was going to pass out or throw up.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Yasha said honestly.

“I just… I don’t know. I feel like you don’t like hanging out with me that much, but you’re being really nice and driving me home.” Beau said.

“I’m… I’m the designated driver, Beau, it’s what I would do for any of you,” Yasha replied, trying to keep her eyes on the road despite desperately wanting to look over at Beau. She noticed the way Beau visibly deflated at her answer, and felt a rock settle in her gut.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Beau said. Another moment of silence followed before Beau spoke up again. “I just hope… I never mean to make you feel uncomfortable with the flirting thing. Caleb told me I might be making you uncomfortable, but that you were too shy or too nice to say you didn’t like it, and I dunno. I hope I don’t make you feel that way.” 

Yasha blinked back her surprise, grateful for the light going from amber to red just ahead of her. At the red light, she stopped, and looked over at Beau fully. She was curled up, knees to chin, her feet planted right by her butt on the seat, and she was watching Yasha with a mournful expression.

“It doesn’t bother me, Beau. Caleb was wrong. I just… didn’t know what to say,” Yasha admitted. She shouldn’t say anything now. Not while Beau was drunk as a skunk and on the verge of vomiting all over herself. But Beau kept staring up at her with that sad expression, and fuck, Yasha was only human.

“I like you a lot, Beau. I’m sorry if I didn’t show it. I know I’m not around a lot, but you’re… you’re amazing,” Yasha said, feeling the heat build under her skin, feeling Beau’s eyes burning a hole into the side of her face.

The rest of the ride passed in uncomfortable silence, Beau remaining awake but quiet. When they pulled up in front of Beau’s apartment, Yasha put the car into park before removing the keys and walking around to Beau’s door.

“How are we doing now?” Yasha asked again, trying to keep the tenderness, the earnestness from her voice.

“Good,” Beau croaked, looking up at Yasha with wide eyes that seemed to shift from hyperfocused to unfocused as they drifted across Yasha’s face.

Wordlessly, Yasha scooped her up again, bumping the passenger door closed with her hip and hitting the lock button on her keys before turning to walk up to Beau’s building. She only put her back down when they reached the door.

“Keys?” Yasha asked. Beau fumbled in her pocket, leaning against the wall before pulling out her set of keys and handing them over to Yasha dutifully. Once the door was open, Yasha led Beau through the empty lobby to the elevator doors, only then hesitating. She’d picked Beau up plenty of times, but had never actually been to her apartment.

“What floor?” She prompted as the elevator doors opened before them. Beau grunted before hitting the button for the 9th floor out of 15, taking a deep breath and steadying herself to stand up straight. She still had the plastic bag tucked into the back pocket of her jeans, but under Yasha’s appraising eye, she seemed steadier after the 20 minute drive.

Beau grabbed Yasha’s hand when the doors opened, and tugged her one way down the hallway before stopping in front of the door for 9C and gesturing clumsily to the lock. Yasha tried a couple of keys before finding the correct one and pushing in the door. The unit was small, but clean and comfortably furnished with a couch and TV, and a small hallway that led to a compact bedroom with a queen bed and a bathroom. 

“‘m gonna change, use the bathroom,” Beau said quietly, looking back over at Yasha somewhat nervously now. “You, uh, don’t have to stay if you don’t want.” Yasha brushed off the suggestion without comment, instead wandering into the kitchen area of Beau’s living space, opening her fridge and looking around

“I’m going to make… grilled cheese,” she said firmly. “Do you want grilled cheese?” When she was met with silence, she looked over to make sure that Beau hadn’t passed out on her watch, but was met by Beau staring at her like she’d sprouted a second head. Yasha felt a smile twist her lips, and she just stared back until Beau coughed and somewhat shyly nodded.

“Two grilled cheeses, cool,” Yasha said. She could see the question already forming in Beau’s expression, and she sighed a little bit as she pulled out the sliced cheese and butter from the fridge. “It’s… Molly has done stuff like this for me when I’ve been in a bad mood, or been drunk, or done something dumb. It helps, I think.” When she looked up at Beau this time, she could have sworn there were tears forming in her eyes, but Beau turned away and ducked into her bedroom before Yasha could be sure.

As she set up her little grilled cheese-making station, Yasha heard the shower turn on, and shortly after, the sound of vomiting, quiet underneath the sound of running water. She hummed unhappily to herself, but thought back to when she had been the one crying and puking in the bathroom while Molly was the one frying up a quesadilla or frozen pizza in the kitchen. Her role was to be here, to be an option, not an invasion.

The vomiting didn’t last for very long, and a few minutes later, the shower turned off, and a scruffy, wet-haired Beau emerged. Her eyeliner had mostly been washed off, and Beau smelled suspiciously like mouthwash, but Yasha just hummed a hello as Beau trudged out to sit on the L-shaped couch, curling up onto the chaise section, flicking on the lamp and the TV, turned to mute. 

Yasha found a couple of plates in the cabinet, and thanked some gods for Beau’s athleticism because there were a couple of rows of Gatorade already chilled in the fridge. She picked a red and a blue, and walked over to join Beau on the couch, handing over one plate of grilled cheese and holding up the two Gatorades as options. Beau took the blue, before turning to look at the grilled cheese on her plate. The tears were forming again.

“Wanna talk about it?” Yasha asked. Beau looked up quickly, then winced, the drunkenness clearly transitioning into more of an early hangover. She took a bite of her grilled cheese and moaned a little, chewing and swallowing before looking up at Yasha.

“I don’t have a great relationship with my dad,” she started carefully, cracking open the Gatorade but then sealing it again, looking back down at her hands. “It was a ‘ kicked me out at 18’ kind of relationship. But in the last couple of years, he’s tried to have a real relationship again. But we got into it last night on the phone because I told him I wasn’t going to come home for the holidays again this year, and he just blew up about it.”

Beau went quiet again, taking another bite of her sandwich, then a sip of her drink. Yasha tried to process the information as quickly as she could. She knew Beau didn’t like to talk about her family, that Fjord, Caleb, and even Molly had discouraged her from bringing it up with Beau, or pursuing a conversation about the topic. But her dad had kicked her out when she was barely an adult, and Yasha tried to swallow the anger that was rising up inside her. It half worked.

“I can go kick his ass for you, if you want,” Yasha heard herself say. Oops. At least she’d caveated Beau’s permission? Little victories. 

Beau laughed a little, but it was a sad laugh.

“It’s okay. It’s… I want to have a relationship with my family. It’s just going to be really hard. And I’ll… I’ll have to decide if it’s worth it to me to keep pursuing it,” Beau said. The words were canned, and familiar enough in their detached sensibility to have come from a therapist. Yasha recognized the recitation well enough.

“Okay,” she replied evenly. “I’m sorry that it’s hurting you, though.” Beau gave her a wobbly smile at this, and it felt real, despite the sadness all around it. It was a look of adoration, of relief and gratitude, and it almost hurt to look at.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Yasha,” Beau said, quietly this time, gesturing around them at the sandwiches, at her apartment. “You… you’re a really good friend.” Hesitantly, then she reached out, and put her hand on top of Yasha’s, not daring to meet her eye.

“I told you, Beau, I like you a lot. I’m happy to take care of you when you need it,” Yasha said nervously, slowly turning her hand in Beau’s so that she could hold her hand back. Beau’s eyes were wide then, and her Gatorade-blue tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, and Yasha gave a wry smile, squeezing Beau’s hand. “But… maybe we can talk about that more in the morning, yeah? You’re still drunk, despite my excellent cooking, and you probably need to go to sleep.” 

Disappointment, the recognition, then hope all cycled across Beau’s face in a pinwheel of emotions, settling back in on a sleepy earnestness. She nodded then, eating the last few bites of her sandwich before looking around with a restless nervousness.

“I, uh, I can sleep out here-”

“Beauregard, you will sleep in your bed, please do not be ridiculous,” Yasha interrupted, charmed immediately at Beau’s attempt at drunken chivalry.

“Well, you can join me, Jester’s shared my bed before, it’s cool?” She tried again, looking over at Yasha with a slight flicker of playful goading. Yasha took her other hand, and kissed the back of her knuckles.

“When I share a bed with you, I do not want it to be like your slumber parties with Jester,” Yasha said plainly. Beau’s eyes were wide and shell shocked, still trying to process the kiss and the insinuation as her eyes raked over Yasha’s form. “I’ll take the couch. We can talk over breakfast, yeah?”

Beau nodded mutely, eyes flickering between her hands and Yasha’s face in and endearing sort of way before she pulled away, taking both of their plates and leaving them on the counter, saying something about blankets and pillows and strutting off to the bedroom with a wobbly sort of purpose. 

A buzz lit up her phone then, and when she looked down, she could practically feel the smugness radiating off her phone.

_ Molly: So have you guys ordered the U-Haul yet? _

She started to reply, but put her phone down when she saw Beau come out of the bedroom, practically hidden behind the duvet and pillows in her arms. Wordlessly, she threw a pillow at Yasha before tossing a second to the other end of the couch, on the chaise where she’d been sitting before, curling up wordlessly into a ball there, tucking a corner of the duvet up under her chin and leaving the rest spread haphazardly over the space between them.

“I take it you will be joining me on the couch tonight then?” Yasha asked, barely keeping the laughter out of her voice. Beau grunted before rolling over onto her other side to face Yasha.

“There’s sweats in my closet if you want to wear some to sleep, and there’s probably a spare toothbrush still in the package beneath the sink. Turn off the light when you’re done,” she said matter-of-factly, as if they’d done this a million times before. Yasha sat dumbfounded for a moment before following Beau’s instructions, finding a bigger set of sweats and toothbrush along with some face wash, moisturizer, and a spare hair-tie. When she came back out to the main living room, Beau was dead to the world, mouth half-open with her head at the foot of the chaise lounge, facing the spot where Yasha would be sleeping.

Yasha paused for just a moment, not bothering to hide the smile that crossed her face. She thought about taking a picture, or texting Molly back before thinking better of it and crossing the room to lock the door, then turning off the still-silent TV and the floor lamp behind Beau.

As she settled into her spot on the other end of the couch, she watched the steady rise and fall of Beau’s shoulder, and felt a wave of affection rush through her. She wanted to kiss Beau then, to touch her hair, her face, her hands. But she stopped herself, shaking her head before snuggling down into the pillow that smelled so intimately like Beau. 

All of that could wait until the morning. She could wait that long.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a pretty quick one for me to get out there, but that probably means that there are some errors in there. Oh well!
> 
> Let me know if you liked it, kudos and comments really get me excited to write more!
> 
> Tumblr: @caitrun


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